In my poem, "FlunkedOut."
I miss spelled Krespy Kreme,
It's because I never look at the sign it seem.
I be in my donut dream.
with No sign in mind,
just the donuts of all delicious kind.

If I can't spell the name,
maybe I should stay out of the donut game.
so who am I to blame.
The man who made the donut,
or the greedy ass who can't quit eating the donut.

Some people are trying to sue the fast food industries,
for increasing their eating miseries.
Personally I don't care,
because if they weren't there,
I wouldn't be there.

They're like roaches,
they capture you on all of your approaches.
When I get hungry for food,
I don't worry much about whats's in the food,
as long as it taste good.
Which is a bad idea,
because the fast food industries don't care,
about what's in there,
junk.
Or if it increases your trunk.

Then there's the advertisements,
that entice us in advisement.
"The Big Mac Attack."
"Where's the beef."
Fall for the crap then comes the fat ass grief.

Here's one that use to get me when I was drinking.
It use to attack me before I was thinking.
"If you've got the time, we've got the beer."
I'd be watching tv sober and content,
then out to the bar I went,
To soak up the Miller Light,
then came the fight,
and the ride home drunk that night.

This whole society is full of entrapments,
you got to be a strong ass person to resist the encouragements.

I just ran out the door to Wendy's for a snack,
then there was the Krespy Kreme sign on the way back.
Then I almost got a donut attack.

We don't stand a chance,
in this manipulating society of sucker romance.

Suck you in like a ho,
then away you go,
in the back of long black limosine,
to the grave yard scene.

Full of junk.

G